And Then The Visions Begin
by Tigerdust
Summary: Doyle learns something interesting about both Angel and Xander. Almost pure smut with a bit of plot. I don't own it, but can I say God bless Ireland! Epilogue is sad, with bits of my favorite Staind song.
1. Chapter 1

"Los Angeles is not supposed to be cold!" Xander stated with a glare that insinuated it was someone's fault and that someone should fix it now.

"Come on. You're just upset because of the rain."

"And that's another thing," Xander began with the babbling and ranting in one fell swoop. "I mean, I don't think rain when I think of Los Angeles. Cement, night clubs, celebrity rehab centers, bad sets at the Comedy Club, the Hyperion. The list just goes on and on and unless someone is messing with my list, they'd better put it back in the right order."

"Don't you think we're being a bit over dramatic there, Xander?" The incredibly sexy lilt of his Irish voice appeared with ease and out of nowhere trying to calm Xander down. In their line of work, irrationality and anger could lead to bad things. He didn't like thinking about bad things if he could help it. Being out of a pint of Guinness on a hard-earned Friday ranked quite far in that category.

Xander looked around the hallway. "If you would find your keys, perhaps I wouldn't be so crabby."

The man patted his jacket, finding them against the lower tan pocket. "Ah. Now don't worry. We'll have you back to your Scooby marathon and chocolate level of sedate in no time."

"I think you're confusing me with someone who isn't tight-wound."

"Possibly. But you're in the company of a true Irishman now and..."

Xander glanced at the apartment, which reminded him quite a bit of that basement he had had a few years back. "...the Irish don't clean?"

Doyle got slightly defensive. "Well, I could just be leavin' you out here to dry off in the hallway now, couldn't I? It's clean enough for my needs and if Cordelia..."

That was all Xander needed to hear and so he moved across the threshold. Doyle filled the space behind Xander to lock the deadbolt and let Xander take in the place. They were silent for a moment before Xander looked down at his feet, water dripping from the bottom of his jeans.

"Umm...Doyle...is there a place to?"

Doyle nodded. "I suppose it's not much of a grand tour, but there's enough to consider in the event of a rained-out weekend."

Xander nodded. "Cordy's gonna owe me big for this."

Doyle moved a sweater from the couch toward a pile of odds and ends, covering it in an almost cheerful fashion. "Would you care for a seat first? All that running must have..."

Xander waved the thought off. "Trust me. If there is one thing the Zeppo does well, that is running. Running and eating the last jelly doughnut without remorse. So two things maybe."

"You're a man of varied interests."

"And don't you forget it, buster. Is the shower through there?"

Doyle nodded to the only other room in the place that Xander had pointed to and watched him go into the other room, a soft thud of the door closing in accompaniment. Doyle wondered how Xander was still so modest after years living with a Slayer, several master vampires, witches, werewolves, and an apparent assortment of oddities. Modesty like that was almost antiquated to Doyle, but somehow endearing in Xander's case. Endearing enough that Doyle didn't mind if he ran up the hot water bill. After all, Angel had said to take care of the boy personally.

The thought of Angel growling Xander's name with that sort of defensive respect was enough to make Doyle take notice. At first glance, Xander was the all-American Californian teenager. But first glances, as Doyle knew quite well, could be more deceiving. Like how Angel didn't notice the way Doyle stared. It was enough to make a man go insane. Doyle had to shake himself, reminding the little Irish Doyle between his legs that company was present. True, he was slightly as damp as Xander, but he enjoyed the feeling of rain through his hair. The only movement he made while Xander was showering and changing from the rain and the demon goo was to go and grab one of the last lonely beers from his fridge.

"You half demons are so weird." Xander was still shaking his hair out with a towel when he came out, leaning against the kitchen table for support.

"Mine explaining how?"

"How I knew you were half demon or how I know you're odd?"

"Take your pick." Doyle folded his arms and nodded.

"The cleanest thing in your apartment is your bathroom. I mean, I could eat pizza off the floor."

"Is that so odd now? I should be lucky to feel that odd." Doyle got up and walked past Xander, raiding the fridge for a beer for the American lad. "But I'd imagine you'll feel more grateful when you wake up needing to puke your guts out."

Xander took a swig of the beer than wagged his finger at Doyle. "Hey! You think I can't hold my booze? I'll have you know that I'm quite well aware of my limit."

"This is America. You're all bloody unawares here."

"Hey! American in the room!"

Doyle shrugged as he leaned against the couch. "Well, at least you clean up nice."

Xander examined himself, moving around in a slow circle. "You think so? I borrowed your shirt, its a bit tight but I'll be careful."

Doyle gulped. He couldn't help but notice what his pants did for the man too. "That's quite alright. Angel wanted to make sure you were taken care of."

Xander raised his eyebrow. "What did he mean by that?"

Doyle coughed. "See the sights, I suppose."

Xander shook his head. "No thanks. I've seen enough of Los Angeles to last me a lifetime. I'd rather just stay in."

"One of the channel has my story on right now. It's not exactly as glamorous as demon fighting..."

Xander pointed toward the television. "I like not so glamorous. I've lived glamorous. It's all yours if you want it. As long as the powers don't interfere."

"I think even the powers like to watch Passions."

Xander had a thought about Spike, but the thought never left its little germinating seed in his brain. He just stood there as Doyle fiddled about. Xander began to notice the man's lower half in the tight brown pants and he had a fleeting thought about how oblivious Angel probably was to Allen Francis Doyle. _That might almost be okay with Xander junior_, he thought.

Doyle leaned back on the couch once he had the station settled, leaning back further to look at Xander and pat the couch at the same time. "I don't bite much."

Xander pointed toward the ceiling as though he were making a point. "I don't know that. I haven't researched your demon half origin. Further, if you knew the kind of people I dated then you would know biting is the least of my troubles."

"Is this what you think this was? A date?" Doyle was amused. He wasn't sure if he was imagining that Xander said people and not just girls. Although he did know that Cordelia and Xander had dated, so it was obvious that man didn't lack experience in the love department. Perhaps he just lacked the same luck that Doyle frequently missed.

"It wouldn't rank in the bottom ten if it was. I was pretty sure though that you weren't babysitting me. You weren't...right Allen?"

"Doyle if you please. And shhh...Ethan's on!"

Xander squinted. "They switched characters again. That guy doesn't even look like Ethan anymore. They couldn't have at least casted someone with the same hair color."

Doyle nodded from the couch. "It does make it a wee bit harder to ...."

Doyle seemed to freeze mid-sentence and that freaked Xander out a bit. "Doyle, man? Don't start that weird shit. I get enough of that at home."

"Do you smell that?"

Xander stared into the kitchen, seeing if he could see anything burning on the stove that Doyle had forgotten about. "What am I smelling for?"

Doyle got up and began lifting things around the living room. "I don't rightly know."

Xander shrugged as he walked into the kitchen. "Is it a good or bad smell?"

Doyle stuttered. "Good...very good."

The door to the oven slammed shut. Xander turned to see Doyle staring at him, a sheen of lust clear over his eyes. Xander raised his arms around the empty space in the kitchen. "I got nothing."

"You don't know how wrong you are." Doyle's face was shifting, his human side fighting for control. Xander felt Doyle grab him and begin to...well...sniff his neck.

"Doyle...Doyle...what's wrong with you?!" Xander pushed the half Irishman away and Doyle came back to his senses.

Doyle gulped. "I'm gonna go sit down now."

Xander, clearly puzzled, did not follow. "You should go do that. I'm gonna be over here, making some popcorn and not wigging out from you sniffing me."

Xander watched his reflection in the glow of the microwave. His intense glare on the popping sounds from the bag betrayed the inner workings of his brain, running faster than the fuel of a jet engine. Doyle had just...attacked him...mauled him...spooned him? Xander Junior didn't seem to be ignoring the standing invitation either.

Xander sighed, sifting his fingers through his now-dried hair as the microwave dinged. How complicated does life have to be? He portioned the popcorn into a very large bowl and then positioned himself far enough away on the couch from Doyle as to not be rude, but as to put space between them in case Doyle became affectionate again.

Their hands brushed on more than one occasion. "Sorry."

"No big. By the rules of engagement, first hands get dibs on kernels." Xander flashed him an easy smile, allowing whatever transgressions had occurred to pass.

"No, I mean about the thing in the kitchen. I don't...I mean...I'm not..." Doyle was searching for the right words, searching for something of acceptance in Xander's face.

Xander put up a hand, stopping Doyle mid-apology. "It's okay. I can handle the weird. I lived on the Hellmouth since birth and then I fought alongside a Slayer. Having a ...half demon grope me in the kitchen is not that high on a big deal o meter." Xander made sure he edited the word wicked cute from the phrase when he thought it through in his head.

Doyle groaned. "That explains it! Just don't tell Angel what happened because he might kill me."

Xander nodded. "The things that Dead boy doesn't know can't hurt him. Also, care to give clueless man a vowel here on the explanation?"

Doyle nodded, reaching for another bite of popcorn. "Well, you have the scent of the Hellmouth on you. Mixed with what nature gave you, it's damn intoxicating. My demon half is basically trying to tear out through my skin to get to you."

Xander shot up. "I should probably go if that's the case."

Doyle grabbed for his arm. "No. I can control myself."

Xander gave Doyle a dubious stare before sitting back down. He muttered to himself. "Well now I know why I'm such a demon magnet no matter where I go."

"Must be difficult."

Xander shrugged. "Makes me wonder why Angel never noticed it before."

Doyle scoffed. "Angel wouldn't notice. Or he'd just try not to. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. Just kind of dense sometimes."

Xander nodded in agreement. "Dense and tense. That's a lethal combination."

"Man needs to learn how to relax in life." Doyle looked at Xander and Xander found himself being looked at like a piece of meat. Funny thing is that he didn't mind. No one since Anya had looked at him like that.

"Relaxation is good. In has case, though, it would be an unlife."

"I mean," Doyle leaned over to grab a piece of popcorn and leaned into Xander's personal bubble just a bit, "eventually, you don't let it go just a little and you can just at the wrong time."

Xander noticed Doyle's hand wasn't moving out of the bowl and that his hand, the traitor, had moved closer and closer toward the bowl until their fingertips were touching. "Yeah, and I'd hate to explode at some time when it wasn't right."

The bowl of popcorn got flipped onto the rug and Doyle's eyes went wide. Xander had taken his arms and put them above his head. Little Doyle was going crazy having someone else's crotch rubbing up against his own. Doyle himself was having trouble controlling his demon half again. It was that damn scent...not to mention the fact that Xander wasn't even close to half bad to look at.

"Now, I haven't done this with a guy in a very long while," Xander said while rubbing his bulge against Doyle's crotch, causing Doyle to hear about a third of the words he said, "not since the werewolf, but I'm betting that I haven't forgotten much. The one thing about bedding a werewolf that you learn is..."

Doyle's hand slithered away from Xander's grip when he relaxed it to talk. "Just let me..."

Xander pushed the arm back and put a bit more pressure on the wrist. "Hey! Don't interrupt me or I'll keep you like this all night. And don't think I won't do it. You can ask an ex-vengeance demon about that if you'd like."

"But I'm..."

Xander laid down firmly against Doyle. "Horny? Hard? Oh, I can sense it and man it feels dirty and beautiful. But all good things come to those who wait, Doyle."

There was a crescendo of thunder from the oncoming storm and Doyle turned his head towards the door. "What's that?"

Xander was distracted enough that Doyle could slip one leg out and place a slight kick against one of Xander's knees. He wriggled away enough and heading for the bedroom in a state of arousal and somewhat panic. Doyle wanted to make sure he was stripped and prepared for this, because apparently Xander was willing to go a lot farther than he thought. The boy was just full of surprises.

"That was just a dirty trick, leprechaun." Xander admired the lines of Doyle's back while his shirt was raised above his head. Doyle had stopped just short of bringing it up completely over his head.

Doyle flung the shirt to the floor after a moment and licked his lips, not bothering to turn and face Xander. "You have to give me a fighting chance, mate."

Xander smirked, moving behind Doyle and tracing the lines of his body with one arm while using the other arm to clasp his hands, once again, above his head. "Says who?"

"I'm a half demon, remember?"

Xander chuckled. "Trying to make me more excited?" Doyle found that he was having more trouble breathing and staying in his human skin than he could remember in quite a long time. "Or maybe you're beating me to the land of excited. I guess I should let you finish whatever it is you were doing."

Doyle felt himself being pushed onto the bed, falling face first. When Xander made no advances, Doyle began throwing clothes into the dark space that was his room. He could see portions of Xander from the light spilling from outside the door and Xander seemed very interested in what was under the rest of Doyle's clothing.

Finding himself naked in his own bed while Xander looked on, Doyle began to stroke his enraged hard-on. It was just begging for contact, since the last time anyone had looked at Doyle in a such a way was through the computer screen. Xander still wasn't so much as touching his own bulge, but the eyes said enough to Doyle. You could always tell by the eyes.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Natural Irish."

"What?" Doyle looked down, realizing that Xander was fixated on the way his foreskin rolled over his hard head. "Prepare to be delighted then."

Xander nearly purred. "I already am."

"Then what are you doing standing over there? Bed's not just made for one person."

Doyle got his first look at Xander's own eight inch hard-on and grinned a little. He knew that Xander Harris wasn't that in control right now either. But what happened when Xander's own tongue began to scale down Doyle's body as he flitted between demon and human made him exhale deeply and close his eyes, lost in the bliss.

Xander loved the taste of Doyle's skin, both of them. The human skin was soft and blemish free, except for one mole right under one of the nipples. His demon skin seemed plated somehow and the horns not on his face seemed to braid right back into his skin or stop without a point.

Doyle's cock was dealing with hard changes to. Xander didn't have to move his mouth much and he wondered how much longer Doyle was going to fight the obvious sexual tension he was feeling with his demon half. Xander was a bit too busy to talk though. He just assumed that Doyle would figure it out as he took about six inches into his mouth without gagging.

Doyle remained human during the course of Xander's blowjob. His fingers intertwined in Xander's hair, guiding the man roughly on how to suck his cock. Not that Doyle felt Xander needed much help in that area, he just wasn't sure if he could admit how dwarfed he felt by Xander's personality. Especially after the way he looked in Doyle's maple leaf shirt.

Xander's tongue was enjoying the mingle of skin and pre-cum as he began to tease and play with the foreskin, flicking it through his fingers as his nose and mouth were busy with Doyle's straining balls. Xander knew how to edge him back and forth and Doyle himself was having trouble remembering which room of the apartment he was in. Xander knew enough to follow the warble of the groans and find the sweet spot.

Then Doyle felt that Xander had stopped the attention upon his dick and was now slowly stroking himself while watching Doyle recover. "Ummm...."

Xander's instructions were simple. "Flip."

"Excuse me?"

Xander quirked his eyebrow. "Listen, mister, I'm not a total bottom boy and I don't want to have to do everything the hard way. Actually I do, but I thought that maybe it would be easier if you...cooperated for this."

Doyle gulped. "I've never..."

Xander sighed. "You don't trust me?"

"Bloody hell, How could I say no to those chocolate eyes?"

Doyle found himself on his stomach with Xander hovering over him. He forgot everything except for how to breathe that mysterious mix of Xander and the hellmouth that made his insides do gymnastics tricks. Having Xander naked across his own unclothed body made him harder than before, if possible. Xander's cock was hovering over his exposed hole, teasing Doyle with contact.

"Tell me what you want." Xander commanded.

"You....Just, be careful. I've got..."

"Won't need it." Xander used his own saliva to lube Doyle's ass in preparation for penetration.

Doyle found himself groaning again as Xander's fingers seemed to know exactly where to find that sweet spot against his prostate, first with one finger and then with a second. "Not bad for not knowing your physiology, I would say."

Doyle's voice cracked from amongst the tangled bedding. "Not bad at all."

Xander mounted Doyle and there was a brief moment of wincing pain while Doyle got comfortable with the cock riding inside of him. But Xander was patient and worked his thrusts slowly in a haunting rhythm that left Doyle pratically begging Xander to move faster so he could feel it all the more. Xander was more than happy to oblige.

They moved in a frenzy that left Xander unable to stay on top of Doyle. They began again with both on their side, Xander's hand reinforcing their bond while splayed over Doyle's chest. He loved the feeling of the plated skin against his soft skin and four pack. He growled again into Doyle's ears. "Just let it go."

Doyle moaned as he stopped resisting the urge to change. Xander nestled deep inside him, kneading his neck with his own teeth as Xander continued pumping in and out of Doyle as though they were fused together. At some point the moans became gibberish.

"Want me inside of you?" Xander was hard from the almost scratching of Doyle's demon skin. It was rough, but not like sandpaper. It was almost oddly sensual.

"Whatever you want." Doyle breathed, although he couldn't later recall if he had in fact said anything.

Xander sent Doyle over the edge one too many times and the final time he wasn't able to recover. He switched back into his human skin just a moment before he began to cum, Xander's hand moving from Doyle's chest to cock, the heat of the cum causing Xander to pump against Doyle's prostate with his own cock until it shot a load with a large groan into Doyle's ass. It took a few minutes before either could really move.

Once they were both laying against their backs, heads next to each other on the same pillow, Xander turned to Doyle. "Is this what Angel meant by seeing the sights of Los Angeles?"

Doyle grinned before cupping Xander's chin and kissing him. "God, I hope so."


	2. Chapter 2

"No. We can't start this way." Xander's eyes were bright and hard, even in the midst of the darkened training room glowing with no more than the steel and flash of the walls and weapons.

"What?" Angel held a long steel pole in his hands, letting it slide to his side and then resting with a soft clink on the floor. If he could have, Angel would have sighed at Xander. He felt that the younger man was always so damn particular about his scenarios. Fighting was never that particular in Angel's experience.

"I mean it. We can't start this way!" Xander turned from facing Angel and walked over to the cd player on the far wall that usually resounded a favorite tune of William during his training times. Xander flipped through a few albums before he slid one of the discs into the player.

Angel rolled his eyes as Xander returned to his marked starting point. The music began to play.

_I don't feel nothing at all._

"Is that better?"

"Yes." Xander let his eyes bore down on his sparring partner, bowing himself into a waiting defensive stance. Angel noted the slight improvement, the shift onto the balls of his feet. "You sure you want to go with that weapon?"

_Drug market, sub market_

_Sometimes I wonder if you need me at all_

Angel snorted. "This weapon is a superb blunt instrument, whereas wielding that will mean your proximity is closer than I would care to be next to say a Keleroxi demon."

Xander shook his head as Angel felt the cool, round beam slide back into an attack position. "Hello? Sharp and point like scimitars, just hand held."

_Grave robber, grave robber_

_Sometimes I wonder why I even bother_

"We'll see." Angel's sparring speed was about a quarter of his maximum speed and only about a third of what he used when he battled William. He had learned long ago never to reveal all of oneself to potential allies or enemies. The deserved paranoia served him well.

Xander easily blocked the first downward attack that followed with a predictable upswing. He noticed the slight nod in Angel's chin and grinned slyly. He turned to lunge with the rounded daggers and found that he almost exposed his back too much, leaving his elbows to twist at an angle and stop the rod from leaving a harsh bruise across his shoulder blades.

_Zydrate comes in a little glass vial_

_And that little glass vial goes into the gun like a battery_

"Is that all you got, old man?"

Angel growled in response. "I'm not that old."

Xander didn't feel the blow to his knees quite as much as the wind informed him of the incoming blow. There was a delayed reaction based on adrenaline, but the twinge and the sound were too convincing as Xander watched himself collapse in surprise. He went with the fall, but kept his weapon-based wits about him.

_And Amber Sweet is addicted to the knife_

_And she needs a little help with the agony_

Doyle was still shaking from the vision a little. His mind was reeling and his heart racing in a strange and exciting way, no matter how familiar the painful visions became. Doyle was loathed to admit how much he loved the thrill, but life with Angel, and subsequently Xander on occasions, was thrilling. Hell, it was more than thrilling. It was like being in love.

He had forgotten about love, about the passion and intensity. True, he could read poetry on the subject and true, he often looked at Cordelia, and secretly Angel, with a fascinated sort of lust. But actual truth was stranger than fiction. Those damn visions were too much, his brain pumping to enough places. Angel had felt it the first time he had reached out to Doyle, sweeping those monstrous claws he called hands against the bulge. Just briefly enough to know it was there, but not long enough to linger. Doyle had remembered that and taken it out often enough on Xander, who had a half residence in Doyle's half-respectable apartment.

He watched Angel and Xander spar with an odd sort of fascination. He knew those muscles, how they moved and how synchronized they were without a thought. Xander could predict Angel's moves and duck to the side or under, but Angel always had another step to push and a bit further to go. It was the way Angel admired how Xander could squeeze himself out of tight corners with a vague thought for the attack afterwards. It was the goading, the foreplay of battle.

Doyle could still feel how stiff he was from the latest vision. He spoke up with a small peep and then closed his yap, frozen on the stairs, when he witnessed something unbelievable.

_Mag's contract has some mighty fine print_

_And that print puts Mag in a mighty fine predicament_

Angel was taking Xander's normal dexterity a mite too personally and wasn't letting him get away with a simple duck and cover. Xander was already sweating and was getting angrier than normal. Doyle noted that this anger was causing him to lose concentration and to fight more savagely with less guard for polite sparring and more creativity.

Angel growled as the dagger came down against some of the buttons on his shirt. "This is one of my favorites."

Xander shook his head as he widened his defense stance, giving him a lower center of gravity. "You can be way too vain sometimes, Dead boy."

Angel let his shirt fall away and Doyle gasped to himself. He had never seen Angel without his shirt and the truth was even nicer than his own naughty fiction. The detail on the muscles, the ivory tone without much blemish, and that Griffin tattoo. He'd not known about that before. And how much that explained would have made Doyle chuckle under other circumstances.

Angel pushed back hard enough on Xander that he skittered to the floor as though he had lost his balance. One of Angel's knees came down hard, pinning Xander's lower half to the floor. The steel rod came down across his chest, pressed firmly by Angel's formidable biceps.

"Do you give?" Angel snarled with the menace of someone toying with his own darker emotions.

Xander smirked. "And what would you do if I said no?"

"Don't challenge me, Harris."

Xander quirked an eyebrow as Angel continued to look as though he were going to breathe heavy and break a sweat at any moment. "I was never one to listen to things that were for my own good."

_Then the gun goes somewhere against your anatomy_

_And when the gun goes off, it sparks and you're ready for surgery_

Doyle expected Angel to shift his weight and to rise, leaving Xander to collect himself and steady to his feet. Instead, Angel was still looking at Xander without having moved a muscle. The sound of the rod clanging against the floor as it was swept away echoed through the training room. In an instant, Angel used his fingers to tear Xander's white cotton shirt off. His nails began tracing the goosebumps created by the cool room and the touch of his frosty skin against sweat.

Xander hissed at Angel's touch, completely comfortable at being toyed with by a centuries old vampire. Doyle, though, could feel all of his available blood running to his favorite organ, which was currently becoming inconsolably rock hard. He wanted to mimic dialogue that wasn't there or announce his presence. All Doyle could merely do, however, was watch.

Angel's scraping fingernails were traded for a set of fangs that left tiny dot-shaped bruises around Xander's nipples. Angel continued the trend upward, using a free hand to caress Xander's bulge while letting his tongue and fangs make the tender area right under his collarbone extremely sensitive. The intensity of the sexual attack rose Xander's chest off the floor just a bit, until Angel pushed him down.

"Is that all you've got, Angel?"

Xander tried to slide away so he could work his pants off, but Angel would have none of that. His reflexes as sharp as ever, Xander found himself nearly sliding across the floor until he was standing against the empty weapons rack with Angel's hard body filling all the space behind him.

"Watch your tone, boy. I've taken a lot of insolence from you in the past and I always wanted to fill that mouth with something you could gag on. Don't test me."

Xander chuckled. "You're about to impale my ass. I don't see how I couldn't argue."

"Dru had a lot of lip, a lot of reservations. I broke her. I can break you." Angel hissed.

Xander sighed. "Please do."

Angel snorted, pushing himself away. "That's way too easy."

Xander turned and shrugged. "So seduce me, then. I can pretend to be innocent or that I haven't wanted you ever since you left Sunnydale. Hell, I could even lie about visiting Cordy since all I ever wanted was, well, a glimpse of what I'm getting now."

"And Anya?"

Xander scoffed. "She's not stupid. And it's not like she didn't assume certain things when Spike was sleeping...in the basement."

Angel growled, closing the space between himself and Xander until Xander felt himself back against the weapons rack again, sure to have lines from the weight of Angel's pressure in the morning. "You and William?"

"God, no! You think I would...wow, you must have a really low opinion of me."

Angel sighed. "Lord, what fools you mortals be."

Xander nudged Angel's bicep with a soft fist. "Don't tell me that you're getting jealous now." When Angel didn't respond right away, he found that Xander's soft fist was becoming fingers that were tracing his body like a sculptor with clay might do. "Because there was never any contest. If anything, I should be jealous of Spike."

"You want to find out what there was to be jealous of?"

Xander raised an eyebrow. "It's not as thought I never thought about it."

Angel didn't stop Xander as those sweeping fingers moved from bicep to nipple and then downwards, across his chest and stomach. His eyes focused back onto Angel's eyes as he found himself at the belt buckle. Doyle's mouth went dry as he watched Angel's pants drop to the floor and the vampire step away from them. Turning as though he knew Doyle were there, Angel let his arm go across Xander so he could steady himself with the weapons rack.

Xander's head slid down to work on the Irish shaft. Angel was pretty hard, but not at full mast yet. He closed his eyes and purred as Xander found himself taking quite a bit of meat down his throat, but never quite making it to the pubic end of the shaft. Angel's cock rolled around Xander's cheeks and Doyle found that his hand was in his pocket while he played with himself.

Shrugging as he checked the training room door to make sure it was locked, Doyle unzipped his own pants quietly and settled back on the stairs for a good wank while watching Angel and Xander fuck extremely slowly. They moved toward pleasure at a nearly glacial pace, testing boundaries and sparring as though this were just another battle to be won.

Doyle found his free hand roaming up against his chest, remembering the way Xander felt behind him and in front of him. He knew the warmth of that body against the beads of water from the shower head. He knew the intensity of that glare and that rocketing glaze that formed over the eyes moments before you both leap over the edge. In this case, Angel was the mystery and Doyle needed to know more.

"You're pretty good with that foreskin."

Xander looked up at Angel and smirked, taking a moment to release his lips from Angel's cock and run his tongue along the balls, freeing his own snake from his pants and letting his legs casually slide away. "I've had a little bit of practice."

"Who?"

"How many hot uncut cocks do you know?"

"Doyle?!" The half-demon on the stairs stopped stroking and jumped at the sound of his own name.

Xander rose, pressing his flesh into Angel so that he could stroke both of them at the same time. "You didn't know? By the way he likes to be fucked, I'd say you could have us both if you want."

Angel purred into Xander's ear. "But he isn't here right now, is he?"

Xander found strong arms spinning him round. His hands spread into the space Angel had left him, nearly parallel now that both of Angel's arms were attached to the weapons rack. "So you fucked Doyle?"

Xander chuckled. "Don't you believe in mutual demon admiration? Think male demons weren't going to notice things about me too?"

Angel's fist began to change into claws. "Did that get you off? The change and the emotional charge that close to ejaculation? Did his tight, green body send you into a frenzy?"

"Oh, God." Xander could feel Angel's cock finally harden all the way. He was securely in place for a raw bare backing and Angel seemed only too happy to oblige. Angel used the muscles in his pelvis to trace the line of Xander's ass and to tease the area beneath, slapping his cock against the back of Xander's balls. "Stop taunting me, Angel."

"It's almost too fun not too. I love the way you squirm, that you know it's gonna be a little rough. But you want it a little rough, don't you?"

Xander breathed heavily. "Yeah."

Angel removed one hand from the rack and sandwiched his body over Xander's, stroking the younger man's cock as he eased his own in slowly to the tight hole. Doyle stroked himself furiously, licking his lips and controlling his demon side as much as he could. He loved watching himself cum as a human and he didn't really want to give his presence away now. The free hand found itself popping shirt buttons so that he could breathe easier as his whole body gave way to its sexual tension.

Angel waited for Xander to make some form of noise before he began thrusting in manly waves. He knew that Xander was trying not to give too much room, but he wanted Angel to slam against his prostate. He wanted to feel every jolt and every muscle tense. He wanted to bite Xander the instant he was going to cum, to lick away a faint trace of blood along with the boy's semen.

Xander backed into each thrust with a faintly vocal groan. Angel was the master of his thrust and quite capable at driving impatient Xander insane. Doyle longed to bolt over to that weapons rack stark naked and feel the pounding from Angel's thrusts while Xander's cock was inside his mouth, pre cum leaking onto his tongue.

Doyle stopped to finger himself when Angel began to furiously thrust. He didn't want to cum before they did. It was awe-inspiring watching Angel fuck. He was like an Irish train, male poetry in motion. His face wavered between transformation and human bliss. He snarled silently, using Xander's body as a beautiful canvas for the art of fucking.

Then he slammed back into Xander and Xander found himself without words as he began to cum. Angel tore out of Xander's ass with great speed and pushed Xander out enough so that he could fit in between the rack and the young body ejaculating. Angel stroked himself as Xander came across his chest, hot cum dripping down towards the stiff cock and balls.

Doyle and Angel stroked themselves furiously, Doyle shaking slightly even though he was reclining on the stairs. He bit down on his lip as he began to cum in a long stream across his chest at least three times. Angel gave a roar and howl as Xander reached down with a glazed expression on his face and massaged Angel's balls, fondling them as he came like a volcano.

Xander watched the last of Angel's cum leak from his uncut cock before he spoke, causing Angel to smirk. "Maybe next time Doyle would like to do more than just watch."


	3. Chapter 3

Angel didn't bother searching for keys. He merely kicked the door near enough to the lock that it swung open violently, connecting to the adjacent wall with a thud. He could sense a faint heartbeat still and Doyle was squirming in his arms from the attack. _Never mention the name of the Keleroxi demon_, Angel thought to himself, _it's nothing more than bad luck._

They had been ambushed by Wolfram and Hart yet again. A client, an actor, a liar and thief. Angel growled to himself, he should have seen it and stopped them from being taken in. But he was so blind and thirsty for his own redemption that his instincts so often fell by the wayside. And this was the price. The only thing keeping Doyle alive now was the fact that he was half-demon and he did carry some quick healing properties.

_E__arlier that evening:_

_"Angel!" Doyle had shouted above the chaos of the battle. The Keleroxi demons had added more muscle to the side of the Russian mobsters. Russians Angel could handle, but he was outmatched now. Doyle had stayed so that Cordelia could flee and now it looked like he had lost his only route for escape._

_"Duck!" Angel had flattened himself down upon command while something flaming flew past his head. Doyle was using the dead barman's lighter to create flaming bombs with soaked rags and alcoholic glasses. There was shattering glass and fire and smoke everywhere now. The demons became enraged and one of them ran for Doyle, knocking him far over the bar. Angel had gotten to Doyle before he was impaled, but he was still so severely injured._

_Cordelia had offered to stay, but it was clear that she was exhausted and on the brink of tears. Doyle was clinging to Angel, almost curled up in his arms. He was doing his best not to show the tears, but even quick healing in demons can be exceedingly painful sometimes and the natural adrenaline that should accompany pain and healing never really sets in or dulls. And Angel couldn't let Doyle go through that alone._

So there Angel was, hovering over Doyle with his chin cupped in his hands as he thought. Doyle had stopped squirming for the most part and looked as though he was asleep to the untrained eye, but his teeth her gritted and his hands were making and releasing fists like clockwork. The gash on the side of his face was closing, but very slowly. And Angel didn't know where the other hits had gone. All he could think was thank God Xander hadn't chosen this weekend to come.

The couch was too small to keep Doyle on for long, but Angel sighed and went for a chair so he could sit next to Doyle and keep him company. He remembered what Xander had said in the training room and knew that he'd never be able to address it otherwise.

"Doyle. Are you doing okay?"

"Okay is not the word I would use. Okay is a pint of Guinness and reruns of the Gong Show, Angel." Doyle's voice was raspy, but he was being brave.

"I should let you rest, then."

Doyle's eyes shot open, searching to make sure Angel hadn't left yet. "No! I...."

Angel knelt next to the couch, descending from the chair and leaning closely into Doyle. He whispered gently. "It's okay, Doyle. I won't go anywhere. Just don't be afraid to tell me if you need anything."

Doyle set his jaw while the last of the cut finally set back together. "Maybe it's enough that you stay."

Angel nodded, taking Doyle's clenched fist and placing one of his hands over it, kneading the white knuckles. "What you did was very brave and resourceful, stupid, but brave and resourceful. You saved my hide back there."

"Yeah, well, I was just trying to save both our asses really. Mum was a barmaid and taught me that little trick for warding off those who wouldn't understand."

Angel simply nodded, he knew all about the closed-minded. "What was your mother like?"

Doyle groaned and Angel watched as he pumped one knee and shifted his weight a little. "Lovely woman with raven hair, tints of natural dark green. When she laughed, my father would get so caught up in loving her that he would spin her around the room, dancing and I would clap my hands and be so happy for them, for all of us."

Angel noticed how Doyle's eyes flitted downward and blinked away several tears. Angel found himself cradling Doyle's neck with one arm while kissing his forehead with another. "Thank you."

"What did you do that for?"

Angel smiled. "Doesn't anyone ever thank you for being yourself?"

"I never seem to warrant that much." Doyle had stopped squirming and his voice was returning to normal and full strength.

Angel's arm was still a pillow for Doyle's head. "Well...people should thank you. I should thank you more."

"You don't have to Angel. You trusted me, you've been there for me and Cordelia...I don't..."

"Shhh....yes, while there's life in this heart, It shall never forget thee....More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers, Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours." Angel let his cool brow glide over Doyle, breaking the final fever of pain.

Doyle laid stunned for a moment. "Thomas Moore. A great man and a great poet. I would have never guessed..."

Angel shrugged. "I've been around long enough."

Doyle looked into Angel's eyes. "But that's not the end of the poem. That's just the first third you have memorized." His gaze locked with Angel as he spoke at nothing above a violent whisper. " Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea, I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow, But oh! could I love thee more deeply than now?"

It took Angel a moment to realize that he was going to kiss Doyle, but he was not disappointed by the result. Doyle took in the kiss and returned with his own, propping himself with one elbow so he could reach behind Angel's neck. Angel could feel Doyle's fluttering heart in the kiss. There was no gratuitous tongue, but then there did not have to be.

Angel stood, taking Doyle into his arms as they kissed again. Doyle pressed so deeply into Angel and he only spoke when they broke apart so Doyle could have air. "You knew I was in the training room. Why not invite me over?"

"Because you don't want what Xander and I have." Doyle began playing with the shirt buttons near Angel's collar bone. "You should want what you and Xander have and what we could have. But all three of us?"

"He did make me quite jealous." Doyle stated, looking up into Angel's eyes.

Angel took Doyle's hand and led him to the bedroom as a guide. Doyle looked around the room for a brief moment before he found a hand beneath his shirt as Angel's fangs stroked his neck with love, tender and just enough to know he was being stroked.

Doyle reached down and entwined the hands in the cloth, allowing each to mimic the other as the buttons and then the shirt fell away completely. There were a few scars left, but they were healing slowly. Angel grabbed across Doyle's chest for a moment, possessing the body as he kissed the neck.

"Want you, Angel." Doyle stated as he slipped from his shoes easily, working on his socks with his toes.

In response, Angel smirked and gently helped Doyle on the bed. He closed the door, engulfing them both in slight darkness. All Doyle could hear was the sound of clothes being ripped away, secure in the knowledge they were not his own. He reached for his zipper but found a hand was stopping his own. Angel reappeared, gliding down upon his body. Doyle shivered as they kissed again, his muscles so cool and strong against Doyle's compact and warm body.

Angel was massaging Doyle's cock through his now open zipper. Angel's kisses began to descend from neck to nipple and then past the stomach. He halted only a moment, long enough to slip Doyle's pants and boxers off the edge of the bed. Doyle gasped as Angel's tongue began to lick strokes along his cock. His tongue was like sandpaper against wood, refining and knowing its true nature.

Doyle began to squirm again in ecstasy as Angel helped him become harder than before. Doyle's hands traveled to his lover's hair, laying their without needing to guide the man. "Am I doing alright?"

Doyle stopped moving a moment. "Alright? Any better and this will be over before it started."

Angel smirked. "Well, we wouldn't want that. How about a fair trade?"

Doyle stammered for a moment. "That sounds lovely."

Angel swung his body lengthwise and Doyle tilted so that Angel's cock met his lips. Much like Xander, he found that the girth proceeded taking the whole lot in, which wasn't as much an issue for Angel, various reasons entailed. But they continued their sucking of man meat until they were enmeshed in each other's bodies, one heart rate between the pair. Angel knew that Doyle was close when his breathing became shallow and he had trouble concentrating on anything other than foreskin. So Angel pulled his away and Doyle closer, setting their heads at the same angle.

"So close." Doyle gasped.

"I know." Angel brought him in for a kiss, guiding Doyle's hand down to his own ass.

Doyle broke the kiss, startled. "You sure? I mean, I'm not..."

"Would I invite you to my bed if I wasn't serious?"

"But I always thought..."

Angel shrugged. "It's amazing what some people perceive." Doyle found the lube in a bedside drawer, taking it with trembling hands. He witnessed Angel, the beef of a man, spread before him and grinning. "You'd best be gentle."

"Yeah, well, you can ask my old girlfriends. Being gentle was never the issue."

"I've got a couple more miles on me. Be as rough as you like."

With that, Doyle found himself stroking his cock with lube even though it was already past ignition point. It was almost painful to stroke as it begged for release. Angel's hole was smooth, easy to glide a finger or two inside with lube. He grunted a bit, making Doyle all the more hard.

Doyle found that Angel's thighs fit in the crook of his hips so that with each thrust, Angel's legs entangled him and he never really pulled out. He felt himself slipping into the madness of lust as Angel grunted and growled with Doyle inside him. Angel's cock muscles jolted his member against his abs, looking as though it were ready to spasm at any moment.

Doyle felt himself moving quickly and furiously against Angel's body, biting down on his lip with intensity. He wanted, needed to go over that edge and send Angel with him. He thrust deep into Angel the moment before and then fell on top of Angel's body as he began to cum in the vampire's ass.

This release caused Angel to ejaculate past Doyle's chest and over his whole body. They spasmed in concert, exhausted and released. Doyle finally pulled away, only to find that Angel wouldn't let him leave that closeness. He felt Angel snuggle into his skin and Doyle felt himself fall into sleep, struggling to retain this memory in case it was merely just another dream.

Doyle hated the thought that he would wake up and Angel would be gone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Forgive me_

_Don't know where to start_

Doyle finally awoke in a cold, empty bed. The sheets were kicked around, on the edge of being on the floor. Clothes littered the carpet. Doyle was disoriented, last night a mixture of battle and fucking and he wasn't sure how much of it had been fantasy or reality. He yawned, stretching his naked body and feeling a couple of joints pop. Tense dreams often tensed his whole body and sometimes that popping felt wonderful.

_I guess we've come to the serious part_

_I need to find out if there's a chance for us_

He didn't mind so much waking up in a strange bed. He was in one piece, he hadn't been sacrificed to some evil demon thing, and he wasn't hungover. So, all in all, he had survived. Doyle sat up in bed, listening for nonexistent sounds in the apartment. The shades were drawn, but there was a draft of light at the bottom. It must have been morning at the very least.

_Don't give me that same old look_

_You won't win me over_

Doyle thought that this must have been the master suite simply because there was an adjacent bathroom. Whomever he had caught the eye of was obviously a little ritzy and he didn't mind that much either. Man has to try and take care of himself, after all. Doyle yawned again for good measure, noticing that his member was still quite rock-hard, winking at him. He walked toward the bathroom with no mirrors, save for the one on the medicine cabinet.

_Don't give me that same old speech_

_You don't have to speak at all_

He winced at the cold water in the shower. Doyle caught a whiff of his own scent and was not charmed by it. Grateful to see a bar of Irish Spring, Doyle gave a half-smile and it felt strange on his face. He had been happy last night in his dream. Reality, for lack of better terminology, just sucked outright. Doyle was barely gripping onto his new life and he felt alone, so alone.

_You can say you love me_

_That I'm your perfect crush_

_How it hurts to need someone that much_

The water heated up finally and Doyle stepped in the shower. As the hot water rinsed his body, cascading down toward the drain, Doyle rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear up the picture of last night. The scent of the soap livened his spirits a bit, but his entire body still seemed to ache. Doyle thought that there really was nothing better than a hot shower first thing in the morning.

_You can swear you mean it_

_But that ain't good enough_

_Cause when a man loves a woman_

_It is all in his touch_

"Do you always whistle while showering?" Angel's voice sounded through the curtain.

Doyle jumped a little at the sound of the voice, now acutely aware he was naked. He had even made a slight Mohawk out of soap in his hair. He quickly brushed it down and poked his head out from the shower curtain to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating the voice.

Angel stood before Doyle, naked and waiting for a response as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Doyle's brain recovered quickly. "There's really nothing better than a shower first thing in the morning. Gets the body started out right." Doyle couldn't believe he had actually just said that.

"Aye." Angel responded. "But perhaps there is one better thing than a hot shower after a long night."

Doyle pulled back his head so that water wouldn't splash on the floor. "And what is that?"

Angel stepped into the shower behind Doyle. "Someone to soap your back."

_I wish you could see_

_Just how simple it's supposed to be_

Angel grabbed the bar from Doyle's frozen hand and began to massage the soapy suds onto every inch of his arms and chest, snuggling his mouth into the now wet and clean area between shoulder and neck. Doyle groaned. "Then it wasn't a dream."

Angel chuckled. "If it was then we had the same one."

Doyle leaned back into Angel. "I'd just dreamt it so many times that I wasn't sure what was real."

Angel mimicked a move from the evening before, by letting his soapy arm cling around Doyle's chest, suds falling with hot water into the drain, elevating Angel's body temperature to normal. "Let me show you what's real."

_Can't stop now we've come this far_

_We don't wanna lose it_

Doyle felt his head being tipped backwards while Angel kissed him. Their bodies were pressed together, Angel's hard cock greeting the entrance to Doyle's ass. Angel spoke when they broke apart. "Thank you for last night."

"Now that's not fair. You played a starring role yourself, Angel."

"That may be true, love, but you helped me hit the roof. Let me repay you."

_If you wanna win my heart_

_Baby just shut your mouth_

Angel's soapy fingers walked gently down Doyle's back. He inserted a single finger to receive a shiver and gulping groan from Doyle. The fact of the matter was that Angel was a hard man to take in all at once and no matter how gentle, there would be some pain. There would have to be some pain, even with his decades of experience.

"Just relax, love." Angel purred and Doyle melted beneath that purr. Just the feeling of Angel's cock at the portal to bliss made Doyle swoon and lust like mad. Angel began to rock Doyle with his thrusting and Doyle found himself moving in tandem like a pendulum. He could feel every absent vein and muscle in Angel's cock as he spread his legs a little further apart, never bending considering Angel's arm was still keeping him solidly standing.

_You can say you love me_

_That I'm your perfect crush_

_How it hurts to need someone that much_

When the lustful thrusting finally began, Doyle could feel the resurgence of his demon half. He knew that Xander reacted well to that harsher skin and he did not fight the change as it came with the waves of thrusting that were still sometimes painful, but more often than not hit that spot against his prostate that made his cock jerk against the hot water splashing them both.

"Don't change." Angel hissed. "You're the one I want, Doyle."

Doyle fought the change then. He preferred himself that way as well. He loved seeing Angel's arm against his own creamy skin and not something green and dark. The thrusts were coming now as such that Angel had to lean back against the wall and Doyle leaned forward just a bit. The sound of soap and water and skin filled the air, causing Doyle and Angel to groan and howl like wild animals.

_You can swear you mean it_

_But that ain't good enough_

_Cause when a man loves a woman_

_It is all in his touch_

Angel was about to cum in Doyle's ass and Doyle had begun to stroke himself like mad with each thankful thrust from Angel's hard cock. There was a warning growl and then a sudden shudder that passed from Angel to Doyle and then back again. Skin became too sensitive to bear and Angel and Doyle both came, collapsing into each other moments after it had passed.

_Then words don't mean that much_

Angel snuggled himself right back into Doyle's body. _The morning after_, Doyle thought, _now that might be sweeter than just a hot shower_. Doyle found himself kissing Angel in the shower and letting himself be held as the water fell upon them both.

Song: _In His Touch_ by Celine Dion


	5. Chapter 5

"What's wrong, baby?" Xander purred as he buried his lips into Doyle's neck once more, laying on top of him as they moved in rhythm.

The problem for Xander was that Doyle was still wearing his human skin, normal emotional responses of pain and pleasure failing. Doyle gritted his teeth as Xander continued to collide and pound his ass. "It's just been a long week, mate. Do I always have to demonize for you?"

Xander gave a groan as he came close to the edge, backing off long enough to collapse on his part of bed while stroking himself with the remaining lube. "But it's so sexy when you do it."

Doyle found himself staring at the ceiling thinking that Angel never wanted him to demonize during their times together, and he never mentioned it during those brief moments of bliss when Doyle did change. "I don't mind seeing myself as human."

Xander's hand crept under the tousled sheets and over Doyle's thigh, stroking his semi-hard cock. Doyle shut his eyes and went hard thinking of Angel. He knew that would be all he would have to do and then Xander would stop, let him rest. Of course, Xander had other plans. "As long as you're not ashamed of yourself."

Doyle's eyes popped open reluctantly. "Never said I was. It's just always good for a change."

Xander's hand was getting tired of moving an unmotivated crank. He turned to his side, facing Doyle. "So, long week then?"

Doyle nodded, looking at the Xander who he still found very attractive wearing his shirts. Although, he did have a somewhat gripe about the maple leaf shirt not reappearing in his closet. Doyle had just thought it better not to mention altogether. "Yeah. There was this kid stuck in a wall by his mom. Nice boy, name of Dennis."

Xander nodded. "I can relate. But other than that?"

Doyle shrugged, reaching down to scratch an itch on one of his toes. "Normal stuff. Cordelia chiding me for only buying doughnuts in the morning, Angel's tai chi workouts which I've also been doing and just day to day visions I suppose."

Xander reached up with his clean hand, and traced the lines on Doyle's brow. "They hurt quite a bit, don't they?"

"I suppose it's all for the good of atonement."

Xander shrugged. "I hope so. I'd hate for you to be wrong."

"Do you think the Powers aren't sending me the visions?"

Xander turned back so he was laying flat on the bed. "In my experience, even some of the good guys have underlying motives that aren't so good. At the time, you think it's the best thing, but later you realize...."

"Finish your story."

Xander shook his head. "If I told you, you'd have to swear it doesn't leave this bed."

Doyle smirked. "Xander, who would ever believe what happens here? You're in love with Anya, for Christ' sake."

"I'm thinking of marrying her."

"Would this still be okay with her?"

Xander shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. She keeps a blind eye toward Los Angeles. At least, I hope she does."

"My suggestion is to get that straightened out and maybe we lay off the nuptials until you're sure."

Xander's brow furrowed. "There's someone else."

Doyle's eyes went a little larger. "No. And I mean, would that even be your business?"

Xander sat up, his body reclining while his arms sagged down his side of the bed. "I would think so. I tell you everything." Doyle shook his head. Something in Xander's brain clicked and his head tilted toward the right side of his frown. "I think I have to go."

Doyle reached out as Xander practically vaulted from the bed. "Wait."

"For what?" Xander faced the opposite wall while snarling. "For you to tell me that you're happier with someone else, someone who lets you pretend that you're more than a half demon?"

"A lot happened..."

Xander wrenched himself away from Doyle's arm, searching for his pants in the dark. "That's no excuse! We have cell phones that connect both cities, somewhat reliable transportation, and neither of us is a vampire so there's no daytime-evening mix up."

Doyle followed Xander out into the living room as Xander searched for his oatmeal sweater. "Don't stress yourself out like this. I haven't kicked you away."

"Oh no? The last time I couldn't perform was when Anya and I almost broke up."

Doyle shook his head. "I have my own demon, Xander. I was a simple con artist, but I don't practice that anymore. My life here, our life here..."

Xander glared. "Doesn't really exist, remember?"

Doyle blinked. "Is that what you want? You want me to proclaim from the high heavens that I let you screw me over on an almost monthly basis? That's not going to happen."

Xander reached for the doorknob. "It's better than nothing more than a mouse and a cold bed."

"Aye. But it's more honest than this, isn't it?"

Xander opened and slammed the door shut. "Fine. Honesty would be great for a change. How about the name of whoever else is jumping in that bed of yours."

Doyle watched Xander fly into his face in a rage. "I wouldn't exactly say we were jumping into my bed, now."

Xander paced between the kitchen and where Doyle stood. "That's just great. Way to obfuscate the truth. God, you demons are just amazing as screwing up my life! You won't even be honest with me over one thing."

"Not if you're going to throw a tantrum like a twelve year old girl."

Xander nearly spat on the ground. "No, a twelve year old girl is smart enough to not get involved with a demon."

"Hey! Half-demon, if you please, right in the room."

"That's the point. Don't call me in Sunnydale, please. Just have Cordelia call Buffy and blonde wonder will come running. And you can explain to Cordelia why I never come back."

Xander closed the door behind him, listening in while Doyle thought of the Cordy-sized ramifications. "How am I going to tell Angel?"

With that, Xander bolted back in and flew at Doyle with his hardest punch. The last thing Doyle remembers feeling before waking again in his own bed is the feel of the cement floor that could have used a bit of a sweep since the last time he bought Chips Ahoy. However, Doyle was currently more concerned with the fact that he was tangled in his sheets. Only his sheets were knotted and it seemed that he was more of a prisoner than anything.

"Xander?"

The voice hissed from the shadows. "Shhh! He'll be here soon."

"Please tell me you're not playing the villain. You can't win against him."

Xander chuckled. "Who said I planned to win? I plan to lose everything, including you."

Doyle shook his head. "You don't want to do this."

Xander shrugged. "It's already done, Francis."

"Doyle, if you please."

Xander crossed his arms as their was a knock on the door. He smirked. "I wonder who that could be?"

Angel's voice sounded against the door as he knocked. "Doyle? Doyle, are you alright?"

Doyle shouted from the bedroom in an unconvincing voice. "I'm fine, Angel. You should just come back another time!"

Xander opened the door, delighted to see the brooding vampire. "Angel! How long has it been?"

Angel's stoic nature held the surprise of seeing Xander at the door barefoot. "Long enough. I heard Doyle's voice."

Xander grimaced. "He's a bit tied up at the moment. You would understand that."

"Can I at least come in and talk to him?"

Xander opened the door wider, pointing towards the open living space. "Be my guest."

"Doyle needs to..." Angel's voice stopped in surprise as he walked through the invitational barrier.

"Well, that's the thing," Xander gave a fake laugh, "I guess having a toothbrush in the place counts with the vampire treatise. Who knew?"

Angel looked around the room for Doyle. "You have a toothbrush here?"

Xander quirked his head. "You thought I would keep my stuff at Cordelia's place with all the ghosting? That's likely. Please note the sarcasm."

Angel looked around the room again. "Noted. So, where is Doyle?"

"I told you he's tied up." Xander quipped.

Angel sighed as he looked towards the dark bedroom. "You meant that literally."

Xander shoved Angel in the direction of the bedroom, catapulting the surprised vampire next to the bed. "Of course, you would know all about that."

Doyle nodded at Angel as Xander entered, closing the door. "He's having a bit of a rough day."

Angel noted the way Doyle looked tied up in bedsheets just briefly enough before a response would be too late. "I can see that. Xander, would you mind explaining this to me?"

Xander scoffed. "You're a big boy, you can figure it out."

Angel sighed. "I knew this triskele would be the end of us all."

Doyle nodded. "Yes, you tried to warn me. Stupid me with the not listening. Care to help me out of the bedsheets?"

Xander shook his head. "Not the most brilliant thing to do, Dead boy."

Angel bore his full height upon Xander. "You're going to take me on? That doesn't seem like a wise idea."

"No, not back then and not now." Xander conceded. "But I was never one for wise ideas. I just figured you should see it all laid out before you."

Angel let his fingers fall into a natural fist. "I give. Why?"

Doyle popped up a bit from the bed. "Jealousy seems a sound reason."

Xander raised his voice. "Doyle, this does not concern you!"

"I'm not inclined to agree. I'm tied to my own bloody bed."

Angel calmed Doyle with a downturn of his hand. "No, Xander is right. This is all about him."

Xander nodded. "You are pretty astute for a souled vampire, Angel. I must admit that I grow tired of losing everyone I love to you. That whole perfect knight in night shining armor thing gets really old."

Doyle let his eyes shift from Xander to Angel, fearing how this might go. "May I point out that he actually just owns the weaponry, not the armor."

Angel sighed. "What? You're going to throw a tantrum because Cordelia works for me and Doyle prefers being human to demon during sex? That's going to be the basis for your evil monologue?"

Xander released tension in one of his shoulders by massaging with one of his hands. "Yes. Is that a problem? Because, if you haven't noticed, Buffy and Giles barely look at me. Anya's wrapped up in her own reflection and search for identity. It took me a long ass time to move out of the basement and even longer out of the closet. I hate to break this to you, Angel, but just pillaging my life isn't exactly high on the cosmic balance sheet."

Angel snarled, moving his vamped out claws to his hips. "Look, I don't know what bug got into your crawl, but you need to release Doyle right now. So what that Team Sunnydale is wrapped up in itself? You could have come to me, I would have found you a place here. But not now."

Xander flew at Angel while he began to tug at the restraining knots. "No, cause I was never good enough for you, was I?"

Angel pushed Xander away. "Don't start something you can't finish Harris."

Xander shrugged as he raised a stake that he always kept in one pocket. "It's one of the only good things about me."

Doyle screamed. "Angel, look out!"

Angel turned, surprised at the stake. But Xander's swipes were angry and unfocused. It was slashing more of air than Angel's bulk and it was too low to actually penetrate his heart. Angel, however, soon grew bored with the boy's tantrum and sent him flying into the mirror above the dresser.

Xander smirked, satisfied as he felt the glass and blood mingling in his hair. Trails of glass now lined the floor. Xander fled, leaving Angel to deal with Doyle tied to the bed.

"I told you he wasn't going to take that well."

"I'm more concerned with the Slayer coming for you."

Angel grimaced. "Buffy will listen to reason."

"Maybe, but I'm sure that Xander has her on speed-dial."

Angel nodded. "Well, let's get you out of these things. We'll deal with Buffy when she comes up to kick my ass. Wonder what Xander's going to say?"

"Hopefully he'll leave your soul intact."

Angel shrugged. "I can say that he's pretty good with these knots."

Doyle watched Angel's fingers move through the knots and his mouth watered. "Well, maybe we're being a bit hasty. We don't have to think of a plan right away."

Comprehension dawned on Angel after a moment. "Doyle, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm just saying that I'm here and you're here and you could shut the door and leave us both in a bit of darkness while I'm defenseless against you."

Angel chuckled as he got up to shut the door, beginning to unbutton his shirt. "I do believe you're trying to seduce me Doyle."

"I believe I have succeeded, then."

Angel's cock was already bulging through his pants. "Maybe Xander's revenge wasn't all bad after all."


	6. Chapter 6

His hands, his hands had been as cold as the glass between them. Angel sunk into himself a bit more. He felt the same way he had as when the sword had run through him eons ago, later found to be a courtesy of Xander's early temperament.

_It's been a while  
Since I could hold my head up high  
and it's been a while  
Since I first saw you _

The clean-up was the bitch and the pain more so than losing the person. Because, after all, the instant that they are gone you can just grieve. But you forget that even the loneliest or most unrelenting person leaves a trail of a life. It was part of Angel's duty as a boss, as co-worker and fellow Champion, to clean up the apartment. To hell with that. For Angel, it was about tidying up a lover's life which had been worth so much to him.

_It's been a while  
since i could say that i wasn't addicted and  
It's been a while  
Since I could say I love myself as well _

He wanted to be angry at Lindsey and Xander. They had conspired for different reasons against both himself and Doyle. When their plans came to fruition, Lindsey lost the steam he had gotten from Xander's spurned heart. Appropriately ashamed, Xander had kicked himself out of Los Angeles and gone back to Anya without a word. But it was already too late by then.

_Its been awhile  
Since I could look at myself straight  
and it's been awhile  
since i said i'm sorry _

Partially, Angel blamed himself. He didn't see a choice about that. Without Angel's influence, Doyle would have never before found himself in a position to be a sacrifice for humanity. But here was Angel, living with the brave consequences of being a Champion traveling a desolate land.

_It's been a while  
since i could stand on my own two feet again  
and it's been a while  
since i could call you _

The worst part of this all was how alone he felt again. He didn't have a brave shoulder to run to anymore. Whistler never really believed in human love. Buffy was always angry at him now, more bitter than anything he suspected. Cordelia was so strong about everything except for the ultimate losses. She had never really been touched by it as a Scooby. Doyle was the first loss she had ever faced that dealt with her own mortality.

_It's been a while  
Since I've gone and fucked things up just like i always do  
It's been a while  
But all that shit seems to disappear when i'm with you _

He'd never forget the sharpness of those eyes, the willingness they possessed to be honest about himself and all those around him. And the way that body curled around his, as though Angel possessed some secret warmth inside of himself that destroyed the vile nature of his demon. They had both been fooling themselves, thinking that it could ever be over. What Xander had started had led to all of this ultimately.

_But everything I can't remember as fucked up as it may seem  
the consequences that I've rendered  
I've stretched myself beyond my means _

Angel had been going through the drawers when he found the letter under a few pairs of socks. He sank down on the rickety bed, listening to the squeak and groan beneath him. He held the trembling letter in his hands, unable to call out to Cordelia who waited in the car with her forehead pressed against the glass. She was trying unsuccessfully to sleep again. For three days now she had seen nothing but his face, questioning every judgment she had made for a long time.

_But everything I can't remember as fucked up as it may seem  
the consequences that I've rendered  
I've gone and fucked things up again _

A part of Angel knew he would never leave the room without opening the letter. The words inside reminded him of how alive Doyle would always be. He had loved Doyle with most of his heart. Doyle was a reminder of how good the homeland could be, how much roguish charm it prided itself in. He was a part of the earth again. But Angel still felt so alone.

_It's been awhile  
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face _

The creases of the paper showed in yellow that it hadn't been written recently. Doyle had been ever vigilant in planning some event such as this and the thought that he believed in his own demise made Angel want to throw up. The man he had shared a bed with and he hadn't even known him that well. How well could he ever know?

_Dearest Angel,_

_I expect this letter comes as a bit of a shock. I assume that you're finding this as you're cleaning out my apartment. I hope I went bravely. It's something I learned from you._

_I guess I should explain that I'm not morbidly hung up on dying. Obviously, recent events have given me much to live for. But in the way that we've recently begun being together, the sex I mean, I didn't want to leave you without some words or some parting advice that will most likely sound like a god-awful cliché. Doesn't mean I don't mean it any fully less though._

_I woke up before you this late afternoon and found myself running fingers through your dark hair. How do you keep it that way without gel? Wonders about you never cease to amaze me, how you drew me to yourself without even knowing. How you entangled both Cordy and I in your mission without even trying. _

_But I suppose that I'm just trying to slay off the inevitable. I love you Angel. I love you in a way that would be dangerous for you to love me. Each time you were inside me, you peeked at my very soul and I cannot be forgiven for allowing you there. I wouldn't want to be. If things had been different, well, we both know things cannot ever be different._

_You are a good man, Angel. The Powers knew you and themselves when they allowed Darla to defile you and then painfully enchant you with a soul even farther down the road. That's not to say that I agree with their methods, but only to say that I wouldn't have it any other way because there would have never been an us otherwise._

_Please take care of Cordelia and anyone else the Powers send your way, because they would be fools not to even though the foolish they sometimes seem to be. Keep this letter. It's the only thing in this apartment besides you that ever meant anything to me, including the ex wife. Oh, there is the silver belt buckle with the Celtic knots you loved. I know because I caught you looking. It's cheap but it's yours. Let Cordy know that she can send it all to goodwill or burn it if that will make her feel better. After all, she never really liked my wardrobe, did she?_

_I'll Be Watching,_

_Doyle_


End file.
